


Azadi

by sprx77



Series: Glitter and Gold [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Actually Very Fluffy, Anal Sex, Banter, Blindfolds, Bottom Roy Mustang, Edward Elric Keeps Alchemy, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Shameless Smut, Top Edward Elric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26282794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sprx77/pseuds/sprx77
Summary: There is this:Roy, gasping: "Fullmetal--""I've been Ed to you for years, Roy." As he slides his automail leg against Roy's thigh. "Or is there something you want to tell me?"Fullmetal was dangerous, a force of nature, but Ed evokes a terrifying cacophony of warm emotions in Roy's chest, fondness and exasperation and some measure of awe, and comradery, of intellectual challenge and a measure of truly equal partnership that Roy never imagined having, comfort in his own home and his own skin, and all told Fullmetal's the safer option."You've caught me out." He gasps, fingers curling in the sheets. "I'm just with you for the automail."Ed snorts."Liar." he mouths, smiling, across Roy's shoulder blades, the tickle of golden hair cascading in his wake.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Series: Glitter and Gold [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877152
Comments: 10
Kudos: 171





	Azadi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Squiggly_lines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squiggly_lines/gifts).



> Squiggley was mourning the lack of Top!Ed in this fandom, I started writing snippets to tease her, and here we are, one full fucking (admittedly small) fic later. Very few regrets! (it is 4am). Please enjoy.
> 
> Title: Freedom (in your body), in a language ruthlessly unsupported by Ao3. No, I'm not salty. edit: took out the anglicized "in your body"

It's not how it begins, of course, but somewhere in the middle of the night, in the middle of the year, in the middle of the relatively calmer part of their lives, there is this:

Roy, gasping: "Fullmetal--"

"I've been Ed to you for years, Roy." As he slides his automail leg against Roy's thigh. "Or is there something you want to tell me?"

Fullmetal was dangerous, a force of nature, but Ed evokes a terrifying cacophony of warm emotions in Roy's chest, fondness and exasperation and some measure of awe, and comradery, of intellectual challenge and a measure of truly equal partnership that Roy never imagined having, comfort in his own home and his own skin, and all told Fullmetal's the safer option.

"You've caught me out." He gasps, fingers curling in the sheets. "I'm just with you for the automail."

Ed snorts.

"Liar." he mouths, smiling, across Roy's shoulder blades, the tickle of golden hair cascading in his wake.

But he doesn't know what damnable truths the lies are hiding, so Roy keeps going, makes it into something of a joke-- a distraction, if nothing else. Distracting Ed, or perhaps distracting Roy from the inescapable pleasure rolling through him in waves timed to Ed's easy rocking hips.

"Such a shame about the arm."

Ed barks laughter, hips stuttering in his surprise, and he has to rest for a moment with his forehead and smile warm against the back of Roy's neck, and Roy somehow flushes red from the sweet moment.

"I'll give Winry your compliments." Ed promises, easy as a waiter promising to convey flowery words to the chef, and reaches one entirely flesh hand around to curl lovingly around Roy's cock.

"Ed," Roy shudders, because he's never been one to turn his face from danger. Has, in fact, untold character witnesses damning him for diving headfirst into the flames.

"I've got you, bastard." A kiss dropped like molten wax to his spine, clever fingers stroking just too shy of too slow but enough, fuck, just enough to get him closer.

Ed shifted, weight settling and unsettling as he moved to his knees and brought his right hand brazenly to Roy's waist. The shift in angle was maddening.

Roy could feel him press back in, not particularly slow, and the thick slide threatened to send him spilling over. Ed's fingers slid one by one over his glans. The dull burn of his thrusts fumble inexpertly over Roy’s prostate. His arms quake against the sheets.

“Let me try something,” Ed murmurs, voice rough with pleasure, and it’s possible Roy might for the first time in their long and varied acquaintance somehow be able to refuse him for the first time, but it’s laughably unlikely when he sounds like _that_.

Ed is like a force of nature, too, and what’s worse is you end up _wanting_ to go along with him, swept up in the hurricane of anarchy and alchemical revelations.

“Will—” Roy has to clear his throat. “Will I regret it?”

Because heaven forbid he let Ed _know_ this power he has over Roy; heaven forbid he fail to put up even a token effort, and this power join the other thousands in his skilled and terrifying hands.

He can _feel_ Ed pull a face at him, bitching audibly.

“I don’ know, will you?” Ed punctuates his statement with a particularly punctuating thrust. Roy is once more blindsided by the _heft_ of him, the silhouette of golden perfection that is not belayed by the immaculate shape of his cock. “I’m not psychic. Can’t fuckin—read your mind or something.”

“Hnn.” Roy rides it out, thrusting into Ed’s fist instead of the bedsheets; a marked improvement. He gets double fists of the sheets, wraps them around his fists, and leverages up a few inches with straining forearms, merely so that he may rock back into the perfect cradle of Ed’s hips.

“Go ahead.” He says in one breath, managing not to stutter or heave for air in the middle. Short, clipped, but effective; Ed’s hand slips away from Roy’s cock. Roy swallows a cry of dismay, retaining his dignity for perhaps three seconds further.

Ed claps, and all thoughts of dignity evaporate on a wave of alchemical discharge. Roy’s first reaction is to snap—obviously not possible—and then to get the hell out of dodge—also unfeasible with Ed still stretching him open—and also, it’s _Ed_ , so Roy breathes through it and holds very, very still. There’s a less than zero chance and no universe where Ed would do alchemy _on him_ , particularly since he’s not wearing anything and Ed would sooner die than perform unsolicited--or, frankly, 99.99% of _solicited--_ human transmutation, so he stills himself as best he’s able in flagrante delecto and reminds himself that he’d trust— _is_ trusting—this man with his life.

Something moves in front of him. It’s a section of the sheets going up in a graceful dance, licked by lightning and bleeding from white to black, before finally cutting itself into a length of a ribbon.

“ _Relax_ ,” Ed laughs, dangling the cloth in front of him, and wiggles it a little. “Hey. Trust me?”

Roy realizes it’s meant to be a blindfold.

“Perhaps next time, some warning,” He breathes, unsettled to find his voice all fluttery. It’s surely from their ongoing physical exertions and not at the fairly vanilla accessory folded in start contrasts around golden fingers.

“Perhaps next time we _start_ with the exciting stuff.” Ed mocks, voice low with promise. He runs his off hand up and down Roy’s spine with gentle ease, eliciting a wave of gooseflesh in its wake.

Roy finds himself clenching entirely unintentionally around the cock so mournfully stilled within him. Ed hisses between his teeth.

“Why not?” Roy demurs, tilting his head back in invitation, but of course the hand petting him stills. Ed’s warm palm rests heavy over the back of his neck.

“For the same reason that someone might, reasonably, conclude I wouldn’t want to be tied up,” Ed says, going for cheerful but landing somewhere a little more cautious. “I mean, they’d be wrong—I _own_ that shit—but not being able to move my limbs could bring back some dark stuff in the wrong setting, yeah? And I’ve been held down and tied up before, too.”

Roy was oddly touched.

Still.

“Fullmetal I was raised in a _brothel_.” He smothers laughter into his own shoulder, poorly. “I assure you I understand how assorted trauma can rear its ugly head in the bedroom, and how to mitigate those risks as necessary.”

Ed laughs.

He could say a lot of things; he could dive deeper into their relative aforementioned traumas, he could seek further reassurance, he could call things off here and now to have a heartfelt discussion about their _feelings_.

But it’s Ed.

“Just checking.” He grins, sweeping the long curtain of his hair over one shoulder so he can press more kisses into Roy’s back, next to his fingers. “So that’s a ‘yes’ on the temporary recreational blindness?”

Roy relaxes all over.

“I think I can indulge your depraved kinks just this once.” He drawls. Ed’s mostly-silent laughter shakes against him, face pressed against his spine to mask the snickers. Clever, dexterous fingers and gentle hands-- used to braiding fine hair and chalking out finer detail work-- make the task quick and painless.

Darkness settles over his vision like a familiar neighbor. Not quite friends, but not quite enemies, either, so long as it doesn’t overstay its welcome at his door. He exhales shakily, relieved to find everything more or less in order.

“No instinctual panic response,” He says, starting to feel the cool air on his damp skin now that he’s stopped actively sweating. Hm. Perhaps definitely time to do something about that.

“Excellent.” Ed’s voice is slightly prideful, but mostly aroused. His cock _jumps_ and, of course, Roy feels every facet of that motion.

“Perhaps we could get back to the scheduled program…?” Roy asks diplomatically.

Ed snorts.

“Don’t use your smarmy voice with me, bastard.” He rubs his chin against Roy’s shoulder blade like a cat, snapping his hips forward a little, experimentally.

Roy’s fingertips flex against the bedding.

He could see nothing; it turned Ed’s voice into a caress.

It turned the caresses into something powerful.

Roy became hyperaware of everywhere they were touching; of everywhere his body opened for Edward’s. Open body language, openly relaxed, and of course the long line of him pressed through and _into_ him like a brand.

“If you don’t…” But of course, that was the wrong tactic to take. Roy bit off the threat before it could even form in his mind, exposing his frustration.

“You want something, Roy?” Ed’s breath at his ear, a tease. Teeth at his lobe. “What if I need you to ask for it?”

His hands slid up Roy’s back and around his shoulders, dipping smooth and steady over biceps and down his entire arms. Ed gripped Roy’s wrists from behind. Roy realized he had made something of a tactical error.

Most of his brain was furiously cataloguing each sensation, struggling to compensate for the lack of vision. His thoughts snagged over and over on the forearms outside his, the fingers around his wrists, the places where Ed’s chest dipped with his thrusts to brush Roy’s back.

The touch of his unbound hair, a constant, soft, golden spill.

Suddenly Roy is very near where he was a moment ago, before the blue charge of alchemy extinguished some of his passion.

“Ed.” He goes for stern and misses it by a mile, lands somewhere close to begging. “ _Ed_.”

Ed shivers, equally affected.

His thrusts build up until he too has regained all rhythm, all strong muscle and glistening form—not, of course, that Roy can see it. Tragic, that. His imagination never does Edward _justice_ ; seeing him is always a punch in the face, all previous recollection of his impossible, ethereal beauty blown away by the violent reality, his unapologetic, knockout gorgeous features.

Twin hands settle on Roy’s hips, hold him still and _steady_ as drive after forceful drive rocks him further up the bed. He gasps under it, struggling to take in enough air; it feels as though Ed is driving the breath from his lungs.

He almost wants to call out for mercy.

He adamantly wants nothing of the kind.

“ _Roy_.” Ed gasps, half-strangled. A touch to his back; Ed’s forehead again, resting sweaty there. His hips do not pause, strong thighs carrying him forward. “God, fuck, you—”

“Don’t you dare stop.” Roy bites out, rocking forward carefully. He gets one arm more firmly under him—fights the sudden and _sharp_ urge to rock back on both hands like something in heat—and shoves the other down, taking himself firmly in hand.

Annoyingly, the lack of vision accentuates that, too. He is a collection of sense-inputs and sensations; pleasure building, high and sweet, without any particular care for how Roy feels about it.

He is living in his body, he _is_ a body, reminiscent of the all-is-one hippie shit Ed had whispered into his shoulders, once, some philosophical path that branched out into the togetherness of the cosmos.

“Oh, oh, _fuck!_ ” Ed bit, almost too harsh, the feral goblin. Impossibly it drove Roy closer, pain mingling with pleasure in a profane and thrilling way. His shoulder stung and his ass stung and he spilled into his hand with a comically soft sound of surprise.

Ed collapsed against him, swearing.

 _I am the all_ , Roy thought deliriously, feeling like sunlight diffuse on the plants or, perhaps, some particularly besprinkled sea foam.

“So that happened.” Ed observes, ever the scientist, as his shaking fingers untie the blindfold. Probably Roy would have just tugged it over his head wholescale than try to unknot whatever devilish tie Fullmetal had learned on one of his charmingly terrifying pre-military vacations with his equally terrifying alchemy teacher.

“Nn.” Roy grunts. He cannot possibly be expected to form words so soon after spilling his brains out through his dick. He categorically refuses to try.

Ed laughs at him, the brat, and even that is smug.

“I’ll go get some washcloths.” His lover grins audibly, sounding soft. Sounding? Roy realizes he has yet to reopen his eyes, lost in the familiar, welcoming darkness.

He realized he might fall asleep like this.

“Shh. Don’t worry about it.” Ed’s voice, safe, washes over him, soft touches trailing down his chest and arms. “I got you.”

“Hrnn.” Roy tried to argue, and then warm and wet things were cleaning them off enough to not thoroughly debase the bed sheets—any further than they already were, at least—and.

Sleep found him, sated and satisfied.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm definitelynotaminion on tumblr and I'm definitely too lazy to hyperlink. Maybe later. Hit me up! No concrit, please. Only tell me what you liked :)
> 
> For "Power dynamics" Square on my Glitter and Gold bingo card. (Will link to it later)


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